


Murphy Was An Optimist

by lil_1337



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-17
Updated: 2007-04-17
Packaged: 2017-11-06 22:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://gw500.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://gw500.livejournal.com/"><b>gw500</b></a> prompt simplicity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murphy Was An Optimist

The plan, when Duo had explained it, appeared to be beautiful in its simplicity. No long stakeouts or undercover missions this time. A basic in and out that would give him time for a shower before heading home to actually eat dinner when the rest of the world was. Something he had not done in so long it seemed to be just a hazy dream. Of course he jumped at the assignment; it was exactly what he needed after the month Quatre'd had.

He'd spent the whole day in anticipation of roasted mutton and asparagus with just a hint of lemon. Then, when the meal was over, a long luxurious soak in the jacuzzi while he sipped Brandy and listened to Vivaldi as jets of water massaged his body. His perfect night would end with slipping between the sheets early enough to enjoy the feel of the hand combed Egyptian cotton against his skin. Lately it seemed like he fell into bed so close to exhausted he might as well be sleeping on burlap for all the appreciation the material received.

So then why was he in the middle of a field covered in mud, soaked to the bone and cursing Duo, the fates, and anything else that came to mind? Because, of course, something had gone wrong. Something always did. It was an unwritten rule of being a Preventers field agent. Right after 'there is no such thing as too stupid' and before 'the innocent bystander is never either'. The supposed contact had turned out to be someone Quatre had previously put in jail and he was made as an agent before he had a chance to get any of the information he had been sent to negotiate for.

Instead he'd spent the afternoon crawling through drainage pipes alternately cursing his simple assignment and praying that the rain that had been threatening all day would hold off just a little bit longer. Not that he put a lot of faith in any deity; it was more of a fall back from his upbringing in a religious family.

After an hour or so of working his way through the maze of tubes that comprised the drainage system the idea that there were no atheists in foxholes or drainpipes seemed to be the funniest thing he'd ever heard and he laughed until the narrow space rang and echoed with the evidence of his mirth. It helped to cut the darkness and feeling that he would go just a little insane if he couldn't stand up and stretch or see the sky. And it gave him the strength to ignore the pain that bit into the palms of his hands and knees every time he put them down on the rough metal that made up interior of his prison.

At two hours the several inches of stagnant water that lay on the floor of the pipe began to deepen and flow. It was half way up his arms when Quatre finally reached an outlet and poked his head out only find that the turn to the right he'd made in what seemed like a lifetime ago should have been a turn to left and he was now facing a rusted metal grill that covered the end of the pipe to prevent flotsam and jetsam such as himself from being washed out into the river.

The good news was a couple of solid kicks and the grill was gone. The bad news however was the only way out was down. Into the river. Quatre could swim, but like most desert dwellers harbored a deep suspicion of bodies of water bigger than a bathtub and not warmed by artificial means.

Looking up, his hope that there was another way out was quickly squelched. The pipe came through bedrock and the top of the hill was much too far to even attempt to climb up to. It had to be down or not at all. Working his way out of the end of the tube he hung onto the remnants of the grate before taking a deep breath and letting go. As per two other unwritten rules the fall was farther than he has originally estimated and the water a good ten degrees colder.

He hit the surface and felt the icy coldness surround him, taking his breath. When he finally breached, gasping for air, the chill evening seemed warm in comparison. Considering how his day had gone it was no surprise when there was a huge crack of thunder directly overhead and the rain began to fall in sheets dropping his visibility to almost nil.

Striking out for shore, Quatre let himself be pulled along down stream, finally grabbing onto a large branch and riding the rain-swelled river as it rushed between high stone walls. It seemed like days, though in reality it was less than forty minutes, before the waterway widened and slowed having reached a place where the banks were low and grassy fields spread out on either side. Abandoning his branch Quatre once again swam for the shore, stumbling through what had been grasslands and was now becoming a marshy bog.

Covered in grass and mud, he lay there in the soggy grass and laughed like someone who had just made the journey away from the borderlands of sanity to the wastes on the far side. Reveling in the heady knowledge that once again he had managed to escape the grasping hand of death Quatre looked up at the stars impressing their image on his retinas. Gathering his breath he whooped his joy out to the water soaked landscape just before he realized that home was about ten miles on the other side of the river. Adding 'there are never any cars to steal when you are on foot' to the unwritten rule list he stumbled to his feet and began to walk.

Surprisingly enough the path to the road was short and well cared for. Something had raised all the hairs on the back of Quatre's neck after the day he had just had. It could be that his luck was turning or more likely he was being lured into letting his guard down by a universe that took great pleasure in kicking him in the groin. Either way he was not taking any chances.

The road was old, the pavement cracked and full of potholes, at least the few places Quatre could see. The main part of it was under several inches of flowing water since the weight of the vehicles on it had pressed the asphalt into the ground, compressing the spongy earth underneath it. Walking slowly and feeling the pavement in front of him for holes or loose stones, he made his way out of the valley the river had dumped him in.

The road he was following joined up with the highway and Quatre found himself trudging along with his thumb out hoping for a ride. At this point even being picked up by a serial killer was appealing as long as his car was warm and dry. Instead he found himself repeatedly blinded by oncoming headlights and then showered with dirty water. It was enough to make a grown man cry or contemplate the ways to slowly kill his best friend.

The glow of a gas station off in the distance caught Quatre's eye and after checking carefully he dashed across the road. He was feeling quite pleased about avoiding traffic when his foot slipped on the wet grass on the side of the road. Going down on one knee he felt his ankle twist and slide out from under him spilling him to the ground unceremoniously.

When the car pulled off the road and stopped in front of him, Quatre was pretty sure it was a hallucination or someone who prowled the roadways in search of victims. When a grinning Duo in a clean, dry uniform jumped out of the car and ran towards him, it did very little to improve his mood.

"Hey, little boy, want a ride?" Duo leered and offered Quatre a hand to help him to his feet. Wrinkling his nose, Duo gave Quatre a quick look up and down. "You need a shower, buddy." Careful to shift his weight so his good ankle was supporting him, Quatre balled up his fist and punched Duo as hard as his tired body would let him.


End file.
